


goodnight n go

by aheadfulloffollies



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Panic, M/M, Nora is mentioned, POV Henry, Phone Call, Pining, Songfic, Yearning, ellen is mentioned, goodnight n go, i literally still cannot tag things, june is mentioned - Freeform, philip is mentioned, song: goodnight n go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfulloffollies/pseuds/aheadfulloffollies
Summary: Henry gives in and calls Alex late at night in Wales.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	goodnight n go

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song "goodnight n go" by ariana grande !

Woe was the colour of  the dark night sky in Wales as Henry gave into temptation and called the first son of the United States. It was an unspeakable hour, but he already knew that Alex would answer.

These moonlit phone calls to close the span of thousands of miles with the click of a button and a lonely heartbeat skipping a beat. These pictures exchanged, the texts sent on a whim and responded to riding on the waves of hope. They would be the death of him, he was sure of it. But he was entranced, enticed by the glow of possibility and foolishness tinted golden, so he swallowed down the demise, enjoyed the hopeful quality gained by distance, and decided that death had never had as much beauty alongside the pain.

“Henry.” Alex’s deep voice, tinged with emotions Henry couldn’t even begin to guess filled his ears, and he could have fained like a heroine from the wrinkled pages of olde at the noise.

He cleared his throat, determined to banish any remaining trace of dreams from his voice before speaking. “Alex.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alex’s Texan drawl returned, if only in a slow trickle like warm honey, when he was relaxed, and there it was now. Henry could have gotten drunk on the sound, would have swallowed it down like the sweetener it was if only Alex let him.

“Well. Erm. Would it be terribly inappropriate if I didn’t have a reason?”

“Of course not.” He sounded suddenly alert, and Henry’s heart beat wilder in his chest, wondering if somewhere in those three sentences he’d let something unforgivable slip. Dear God, what would he tell Philip?

“Well. That’s good then,” he said, coercing his tone into nonchalance in an art he’d honed after years in the public eye. “Because I don’t. Have a reason, that is. I believe I was momentarily possessed by a demon, or someone else of the like who might voluntarily initiate contact with you.”

Alex’s laugh was slow and intoxicating, and every time he coaxed it out it was as if he’d won a race, proud and pleased, high off the accomplishment and ready to do it all over again. “You can admit we’re friends now, you know. After the threat on both of our lives, you stopped being a massive pain in my ass. Nora and June have both said we’re friends now, at least.”

“Well, if Nora and June say it, then it must be true.”

“They are geniuses. I’m pretty sure it’s, like, official now. There’s probably a certificate somewhere.”

“Can’t argue with the certificate.” Henry hesitated, probably too aware of the pause in Alex’s laugh, wondering if he could say it. If he could say anything real on this call without confirming himself a goner before he even had the chance to see Alex again in person.

“You know, your laugh is rather nice,” he said before he could overthink it more- even though it was bound to lead to nothing but disaster. He paused. “Erm. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Thank God this wasn’t a video call, or Alex’s would’ve been privy to Henry’s burning cheeks and neck and rather skittish mannerisms.

But that only spurred another laugh, this time one tinged with bemusement. “You said it because it’s true. I’m incredibly dashing, and my laugh is certainly no exception.” Even though he could have (and probably should have) expected it, that cockiness caught Henry off guard, and his laugh was full of surprise.

“Yes, well. I’m glad to see you’ve maintained a sense of modesty.”

“Maintained? I’ve never had one,” Alex joked, and Henry wished he could say how untrue that was. Alex was one of the most selfless, modest people he’d ever met. He understood himself, but that didn’t make him any less of a saint- he was one that understood the work he was doing was good, but refused to accept that  _ he _ was part of that good.

He wished he could tell him that he was. That every part of his messy, beautiful soul was gorgeous. Alex was a forest Henry’d never been too, filled with magic and mystery, and he wanted nothing more than to dive right in.

But that was not a reasonable thing for the Prince of Wales to wish.

“Well, you’re hardly lacking.”

Shit. Had he just said that?

“I’ve been told that before.” Alex’s tone was cheeky, a clear innuendo just waiting to happen.

It had already happened, really, and Henry’s cheeks burned even brighter red from it. “Erm.”

Alex burst out laughing, clearly unsurprised by Henry’s reaction- though he was certain what it had been was not for the reasons he thought. “Oh my god,” he said through bursts of laughter. “Have you never heard a dick joke before?”

He nearly choked hearing Alex say the word  _ dick,  _ which was a certain sign that everything was going to shit, because he was an American with the dirtiest mouth in the world and that was neither the first or certainly the last time he’d hear it.

“Erm. No. Well, I mean, no, I have.”

“Right,” Alex said, clearly not believing him. “But let me guess: you don’t make them, and none of your friends do, either.”

Henry was fairly certain Bea had made one on more than one occasion, and Pez probably at least once. “I don’t,” he agreed, “but those I associate with have been known to occasionally, erm, refer to the penis in a, erm, humorous manner.” He could  _ not  _ say dick joke. And while this was certainly another thing Alex was going to make fun of him for (rightfully so), that would definitely be better than referencing his own dick on a call with the man he might have been falling in love with.

_ Wait, what? _

“Come on, Henry,” Alex laughed. “Say dick joke.”

“Erm.”

_ Had he just thought that he was in love with Alex?! _

“Dick joke, dick joke, dick joke,” he chanted.

_ That had certainly been a misstep, a misthought if you will, not something I meant. Right? _

“I don’t think,” he said, “that would be a good idea.”

_ I  _ can’t  _ be in love with Alex. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought, much less done. _

“Come on,” Alex whined. “It’s just two words. Dick. Joke.”

“Erm,” Henry said.

_ Jesus fuck. Am I in love with Alex Claremont- _ fucking _ -Diaz? _

“Pleeeease?” Alex was practically begging at this point, and it was the realization of that that made Henry’s throat tighten along with. Erm. Various other parts of him. He needed to get a grip, and he needed Alex to stop asking him to say  _ dick joke  _ so he could stop thinking about penises.

“Fine. Dick joke.” He let the words out in a rush, cheeks burning and hissing out the words like they were forbidden and he was about to get caught.

Well, if he didn’t do anything about this being-in-love with the  _ fucking  _ first son of the United States, he was going to get caught doing  _ far _ more forbidden things with  _ far _ bigger consequences.

Henry was absolutely, unequivocally fucked.

But Alex was laughing raucously on the other side of the phone, brought nearly to tears by the mere words  _ dick joke  _ coming from Henry’s embarrassed, rushed accent, and the fact that he didn’t quite care how fucked he was if he got to hear  _ that _ in this lifetime was a certain sign that it was even worse than he thought. He was so fucked that he didn’t even  _ care _ that he was fucked, so enamoured he didn’t give a shit whether he wandered too far into Alex’s forest.

And yet, the fact remained that he was entirely set up for disaster, and that was hardly something Henry could ignore, no matter how much his heart tried to tell him he didn’t care.

No matter how much he  _ didn’t  _ care.

He had to.

“Are you really still laughing,” he said after a long moment of gathering his thoughts, “over the words  _ dick joke _ ?”

“Not quite,” Alex said, gasping for breath, seeming to finally have finished. “But I was. It’s just a great thing to envision. The Prince of Wales, with your perfect smile and your hair all neat, muttering  _ dick joke _ into his phone while talking to the first son of the United States in some fancy fucking hallway.”

Had he just called his smile perfect?

_ That is a thing friends do,  _ he reprimanded his rapidly beating heart.  _ Friends compliment each other. That is not a crush thing. It is not gay, not at all, and you’re an idiot for thinking it might be, so stop that right now. _

“I’m actually in my room,” Henry supplied, entirely aware that this was irrelevant but also wanting badly for Alex to know that these conversations were not something so simple as to be had in a  _ hallway _ , as if he were just another common person, as if this… friendship, or whatever it was, were another thing for people to have a piece of, not something sacred and real and vital to his living.

As if any of that could be communicated five words saying he was in his room.

“That makes two of us,” Alex said casually, as if Henry hadn’t just spouted the most inconsequential piece of information in the world as if it carried the weight of a war statement.

Henry wondered what Alex’s room looked like, then stopped himself from wondering what Alex’s room looked like for the sake of his own mental sanctity, then immediately began wondering again because it was simply impossible not to.

“Do you suppose,” he said before he even knew what he was saying, caught up in the horrible, beautiful, tempting vision of himself and Alex together in a bed, holding each other, “you might ever visit me here?”

_ Do you think you might ever stay the night? Do you think you might ever want to stay in my room- only on the couch? Do you suppose the heating might be down and you might just have to crawl under the covers with me? You can have the right side, don’t worry, I don’t expect us to cuddle. I don’t expect you to love me back. _

_ But wouldn’t it be lovely to hold each other for warmth? _

_ Wouldn’t it be nice to hold each other? _

“Of course,” Alex said smoothly, successfully jolting Henry out of his ridiculous, stupid, irresponsible dreamland. “I’m sure we’ll have to visit y’all again at some point if my mom wins this election.  _ When  _ she wins it. And it’d be nice to see each other again, don’t you think?” He laughed slightly. “Besides, the public might demand more of our amazing- and highly photogenic, if I do say so myself- friendship.”

“At least we wouldn’t have to fake it this time,” he said, still caught up in the fact that Alex had answered  _ yes. _

“What happened to being possessed by a demon?” Alex teased.

“Erm. Well. I suppose, in a way, I am the demon. Or, the demon is me. I am occasionally possessed by a part of myself that… likes you.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

He was going to give himself away in minutes if he went on like that. No matter that it was perhaps the truest thing he’d said this entire call (what was he, if not a demon? If not a monster created to bring his family, the entire royal line of England, restlessness and pain? If not someone so selfish as to think that his own wantings, who he was, mattered more than what he was supposed to be? He was a Prince of Wales and he was in unrequited love with the first son of the United States and he had no intention to stop no matter what his mind told him, and according to most everyone who mattered, that made him the most demonic man in the world.), he was quite sure that wasn’t a typical thing a  _ friend  _ said to another  _ friend  _ when both parties were straight, or at least masquerading as such.

God, this was all such a clusterfuck of a mess.

“Consider me honoured. You know, the best people are demons of some kind.”

And for a moment, Henry thought he might have said any of that- any of that bit about being gay or being in love with him, because how else could he have said something so perfect?

But no.

And in the grand scheme of things, he tried to convince himself, that was a good thing.

“Well. Erm. Thank you, I suppose.”

“Anytime. You know, Nora was saying the other day…”

They continued on like that (Alex carelessly charming, as he always was, and Henry an absolute mess of embarrassment and panic, as was his way) for what was, according to his phone, hours, but felt like minutes. Finally, Alex agreed it was in his best interests to go to sleep and said goodnight, please don’t really tell Nora I said that about her hair, we’ll talk tomorrow.

And because he didn’t have an immediate death wish, Henry said goodnight back, heart aching with every syllable even though he knew, really, it was for the best.

Always goodnight. Always goodnight and go.


End file.
